Faramir Fiction Archive

Tales of the Telcontars (PG-13)

Written by Susana

19 September 2011 | 56124 words | Work in Progress

Title: Rites of Spring Part II
Series: DH AU
Author: Susana
Feedback: Please use the form below
Warning: AU
Disclaimer: All characters and everything else belong to Tolkien.
Summary: Faramir is back, and it’s stopped raining.
Beta: None. Written quickly when the idea struck, so there may well be mistakes.
A/N: Apparently, there was a part II to this ficlet. Also set in about Fourth Age year 17, a little more than a day after , Rites of Spring.

---

Rites of Spring Part II

By midnight of the next night, the White Company had returned, successful, with an unharmed but slightly damp Faramir amongst them. Faramir’s horses and men had all been fed, and spaces were found for them as well as the King’s men in the now-crowded Poros Fort. Eldarion had made the sacrifice of sharing his small room with his niece Theodwyn, and sleeping on a cot so that she could have the bed. It was a bit of a sacrifice for Theodwyn as well, as she knew Eldarion would want to rhapsodize about his betrothed, and Thea had a limited tolerance for that sort of thing, even where she was fond of both of the parties involved (which, fortunately, she was, of both her uncle and his intended). Even the King of Men was sharing his room, with his oldest son whom he wanted a chance to question more closely.

“Hmm…and I think it was best, to turn the bandits over to Taduin for justice…” Faramir mumbled quietly, lying on his stomach on the bed in his father’s room, completely naked except for a sheet pulled up just to his waist.

“It was good diplomacy, and politics at the least.” Aragorn replied, thoroughly massaging his eldest son’s tense back and shoulders. “And taking down the names of all of the bandits, and having Kasim and the others draw sketches of them, was a clever precaution. That way, if Captain Mardil’s men arrest the same bandits, they will know to turn them over to Gondor for justice, and can explain why to Taduin.”

“‘S what I thought.” Faramir slurred, exhaustion overcoming his worries of the day. Relaxing under his father’s and healer’s kind ministrations, he murmured, “Feels good, Ada, thanks. Shoulder doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Hmm, I thought it might be bothering you, difficult child, what with all the rain.” Aragorn murmured, taking even greater care with Faramir’s left shoulder. “I’m not thrilled that you didn’t mention it to anyone, or that you were out in this. But I’m fair enough to acknowledge that your choices all seem to have been….reasonable, under the circumstances.”

“Pot, kettle.” Faramir murmured, with a wry half-smile. “You would have done the same thing. You would have sent ‘Darion back with the messengers, as I would have Thea if she had been well. But you would have done the same thing.”

“Hmm.” Aragorn murmured thoughtfully, strong hands massaging lower on his son’s back, “Mayhaps I would have. Certainly I would have, before I was King, and in my younger years. But I do not know the Mountains of Shadow as well as you do, nor have I your contacts there. However, even with all of the questions that you answered to my satisfaction, Faramir muin-nin, there was one that somehow didn’t come up.”

Faramir sighed, but didn’t tense. “Yes. I led the attack on the bandit’s camp myself, in our front line. Yes, I know…well, I would suspect, that we will have more than words about that, you and I.”

Aragorn sighed, and brought his hand down once, firmly, on Faramir’s bottom, covered only by the thin sheet.

“Owww, Ada.” Aragorn’s oldest son, a senior Captain of Gondor, the Prince of Ithilien, the Steward of Gondor, one of the most determined and toughest men Aragorn knew, whined like a ten year old.

Aragorn couldn’t stop his own exasperated smile, at the whine. Probably Faramir’s intention. Still, “You know better, ion-nin.” Aragorn scolded.

“I know. I know. Beregrond was displeased as well, and I think Orohael would have snitched, had I not come clean.” Faramir admitted, stretching and making a soft sound of contentment as Aragorn pulled a soft blanket over him.

“Good. That’s what I pay Orohael for, after all.” Aragorn replied lightly, dimming the lights and lying down in the bed beside his eldest child. “We’ll discuss this matter further in the morning,” he reminded Faramir, “for now, ion-muin-nin, sleep.”

“Mmm. ‘Kay. Love you, Ada…sorry worried you.” Faramir mumbled, trailing off as sleep claimed him.

“I love you too, you reckless idiot.” Aragorn replied, rather glad at times that his own Adar wasn’t here to laugh at him, having children just like himself. Though Aragorn would cheerfully have put up with almost anything, if Elrond could have stayed longer, for him, and Arwen, and Eldarion, Melyanna, and Gilwen, and also for Aragorn’s oldest child, the one who had never really been a child, and his children. “You would be so proud, Ada El. Of all of them.” Aragorn murmured to the quiet room.

Faramir’s sleep mumble of, “No cinnamon on my eggs, please,” was the only answer, and so Aragorn smiled, and shook his head bemusedly, and quickly fell into a deep, true sleep. The King of Men had barely been able to catch a cat nap the previous night, so worried had he been, but tonight, his chicks were all safe, and all was well with the world.

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

Enjoyed this story? Then be sure to let the author know by posting a comment at https://www.faramirfiction.com/fiction/tales-of-the-telcontars. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!